


Playing the best version of ourselves

by Joanjun



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons References, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Future Fic, Hamid has a lot of feelings, Light Angst, Sasha is alive, and he has grown up a lot, mention of hyperventilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanjun/pseuds/Joanjun
Summary: Sasha tries to teach the party how to play DnD. The key word being 'tries'.A future fic where Sasha made it back from Rome, but not Grizzop.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Azu, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Playing the best version of ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy reading this <3

The more Hamid stared at the glossy sets of polyhedral dice neatly lined up on the carpeted floor, the less he understood how an entire game could revolve entirely around these small numbered trinkets. Though he liked how polished they look.

He leaned forward in the little nest of cushions he’d arranged for Azu and himself to pick up a pyramid-shaped die and shifted it slowly between his fingers to examine its different faces, wondering at the meaning of the numbers. The pillows sunk slightly beneath him as Azu shuffled closer to his side, as if to lend a curious eye to his investigation.

With some effort, he tore his eyes away from the shiny metal to ask Sasha, “When did you say Wilde had time to teach you all this?”

For a few seconds, Hamid wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard him. She’d barely uttered a few words since Wilde had left for the train station, leaving the vague instruction for her to “prep the session as much as she could” until his return. Now, hunched forward on one elbow and scribbling furiously on some gridded paper, Sasha’s look of utter concentration was not unlike the expression she used to wear whenever disarming a particularly tricky bomb or picking an elaborate lock. His heart fluttered with an irrational twinge of nostalgia. He did _not_ miss his friends being thrown into dangerous situations, thank you very much. 

“Y’know when he was being all sulky, and like, grumpy because Zolf went on that sailing trip with Cel and Barnes?” Sasha said, without bothering to look up at Hamid. “Well, I decided to be nice and to come down here to keep him company and stuff, you know, make sure –”

To her right, Zolf let out a snort, from his own modest cushionless spot on the rug, where he sat slouched against the side of the sofa with one arm resting loosely on his knee. “Last time, when I brought him with us, _after_ he insisted on coming along, I could tell he was already over it barely fifteen minutes out from the harbour. ”

Sasha’s pen halted its scrawling for a brief moment as her eyes flicked towards Zolf. “Yeah. Said it reminded him of another trip that didn’t go so well.”

Hamid dropped his gaze to the die in his palm. He pressed his thumb into one of its sharp edges. It was years ago, and Oscar was fine now, more than fine, really. He laughed, he teased, he looked like he had finally learned the definition of the word ‘rested’. Whoever commented on his odd hair colour was met with a confident smile and a quip about making a fashion statement. Other times, his reply simply revolved around wanting to match with his husband. 

Hamid only registered the pain shooting from his thumb when a large, comforting hand descended on top of his, and gently extracted the die from its grip, before placing it back down on the carpet. 

“So, Sasha, correct me if I’ve understood this wrong, but this is a game where we pretend to go on adventures and let the dice decide our fate?“ Azu’s warm voice filled the silence as if it had never existed. 

Sasha responded with an eager nod, and then unfurled her body step by step, first straightening her back, then rolling her shoulders backwards, before she ended it all with a substantial yawn as she stretched her arms above her head. “Yep. Well, not completely though. The dice decide _some_ things. But most of what happens is up to you and how your character reacts to whatever’s going in the story. Makes sense?”

Azu’s answer was a non-committal hum, voicing Hamid’s own perplexity. 

“Okay, say your character gets their shiny new sword stolen by a thief. Maybe a roll decides if you’ve even noticed or not, maybe – _maybe_ they’re a really good thief and your character’s just not the best at paying attention to things around them. But whether you want them to go stabby-stab,” she explained, as she swung her pen in violent motions, “or go all peaceful and forgive them, that’s up to you.” 

Hamid felt a smile pull at his lips, his mind already toying with the notion of an all-powerful sorcerer traveling the continents, spreading peace and prosperity through the sheer awesomeness of his powers. And his impeccable fashion style. 

“I see... So not too dissimilar to real life, in some ways?” Azu asked, gently dispelling Hamid’s reverie. “As in, there are some things you can control and some things you can’t, I suppose.”

“Except you don’t need to think about the consequences of your actions,” Zolf interjected . 

The way he said it was a perfect mixture of airy and playful, and yet, by pure force of habit or perhaps just out of concern for his friend, Hamid was momentarily tempted to read into it, to think back on their argument in their Parisian suite, and then on all of the ones that followed. Gods, he had been so naive and immature, thinking that the repercussions didn’t matter as long as the choices they rooted back to had been for the right reasons. 

Hamid swallowed the dry lump in his throat; the air in the room had thickened and bore down on him like two gigantic hands pushing down on his shoulders and chest. However, he breathed a small sigh of relief when his eyes caught a glance of his perfectly normal hands, free from any brassy undertones or noticeable scaling. He had changed, he reminded himself. He was no longer the impulsive young halfling looking to prove his righteousness to the world. 

When finally, he forced himself to rejoin the conversation, he became aware of two developments: first, Azu had settled herself so close to him, that were it not for the height difference, they would be sitting shoulder to shoulder; and second, Sasha was currently engaged in a long-winded explanation whose beginning Hamid had completely missed. 

“– you _do_ wanna care. I mean obviously, it’s a game, and like, whatever happens in the game isn’t gonna to affect you for real. But you gotta think that your character _would_ care, cause for them, it _is_ real, so that’s why you wanna care at least a little bit about what you do.”

Zolf flapped his hand hanging off his knee in what Hamid assumed was a gesture of surrender. It was hard to judge whether Sasha’s words had really convinced him, but Zolf had never been known for his ability to resist her. 

At his side, Hamid felt Azu’s whole body shake in agreement. “I think we _will_ care, Sasha. Especially if as you said, we’ll be playing this game for quite a long time. And I’m sure that my character will become buddies with yours, and yours as well,” she continued, her eyes alternating between Sasha, Hamid and Zolf, “and she’ll make sure that nothing bad happens to them.”

A moment passed where all was silent, save from a soft rustle as Hamid moved his hand to give Azu’s fingers a tight squeeze. 

“That sounds lovely, Azu,” Hamid said, offering her his warmest smile, before turning back to Sasha. “So, Sasha, how should we start playing?”

As if hit by a sudden jolt of realisation regarding their lack of progress in the past half-hour, Sasha furiously gathered the flurry of papers around her, using the floor to stack them into a somewhat coherent pile.

“Right. Well, uh, the first thing you gotta do is pick who you want to play as. And to do that, you need to pick a class first, okay?” She waited until she got a nod from everyone before she went on, “There are a bunch of different classes, like fighter, and paladin, and wizard and a lot more.” 

That seemed to get Zolf’s attention, as he shifted around to settle down cross-legged and rested his chin on his knuckles, before proceeding to ask Sasha, “What’s the least complicated one? Cause I want to be something nice and easy, you know, where I can just take a sword and swing it around.”

After a pensive pause, Sasha replied, “I guess there’s fighter and barbarian if you just wanna hit people. I mean, there’s a bit more to it, but it’s definitely easier than, like, being a cleric or sorcerer.” 

Zolf gave a satisfied nod, muttering “Fighter it is”, just as Hamid exclaimed, “Oh! Can I be a sorcerer?”

At once, he was pierced by a reprabatory look from Sasha. Clearly, she was not pleased with his choice, though Hamid couldn’t begin to fathom why. 

“What’s wrong? Why can’t I be a sorcerer? Especially when I _am_ one.”

Sasha shook her head at him in a show of fond exasperation. “Cause that’s the whole point, Hamid. To be something you’re not.”

“In that case, I’d like to be a magical goblin!” Azu proclaimed at his side, excitation reverberating off every word. “Or perhaps a sneaky goblin, that’s good at hiding in the shadows and climbing walls just like you Sasha. Oh – and I could shoot arrows at them when they’re not looking!”

Without warning, Hamid felt his blood rush up to his head and start pounding in his ears. He heard himself mumble something about needing some air and rushed out the living room and through the front door, his whole body moving as if being under someone else’s spell. 

Despite having emerged into the cool, late afternoon air, his lungs still struggled to replenish themselves. Underneath him, the lines of the cobbled pavement coiled and writhed around the stones in a pulsating rhythm. His body was torn between the urge to throw up and the compulsion to dissolve into tears. 

Then, Hamid felt a steadying hand land on his shoulder. The mere idea of looking up made him dizzy, but he knew perfectly who this comforting touch originated from.

“Hamid, Hamid. It’s alright.”

“Az – Azu, I’m so sorry, I –” Hamid stammered out between halted breaths.

Keeping her palm weighing down reassuringly on his shoulder, Azu bent down to one knee until her face was level with his.

“Just breathe, Hamid. I’m here,” she said calmly, her gaze holding his. 

Azu’s features were warm and familiar; they didn’t shift like the ground below him. He kept his eyes trained on her as he attempted to regain control of his breathing, feeling miserable every time a half-choked sob sent him gasping for air again. Each minute dragged away slowly, interspersed by soft, whispered encouragements from Azu. 

After a long while, Hamid was surprised to find that his chest could rise and fall at a normal pace again. Azu also seemed to be conscious of this, as the last minutes had been devoid of any talking from her part.

“I –” Hamid started, before pausing at the need to take in a long breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just being here, with – with everyone, it’s bringing back up all these memories and I –”

“And you?” Azu prompted gently.

“I thought of Grizzop, and Zolf, and how we used to always fight until something broke, and, and –” He heard his voice crack pathetically, and forced a measure of calm into it before he pressed on, “Gods, I’m sorry. We’re here to have fun and spend time together again. And I’m such –”

Before Hamid could go on, Azu interrupted him with a squeeze on his shoulder, “It’s alright, Hamid. You’re allowed to feel those things. And to cry. Letting it out is the best thing you can do.”

In one swift movement, he let his head fall onto Azu’s shoulder and flung his arms around her neck to pull her in close. He rubbed his cheek lightly into the fabric of her sweater, burying himself as deeply as he could into her returning embrace. Without trying to, his breathing gradually slowed down until it matched the regular rhythm of Azu’s respiration. 

“I miss him.”

“I miss him too,” Azu echoed, as she tightened her grip around Hamid’s small figure.

The sun had begun setting above her shoulder, and without doubt, Zolf and Sasha would be wondering if everything was alright. Little by little, he unwound his arms from around Azu.

“Hey! Mind if I join you all?” 

Not for the first time today, Hamid’s heart gave a violent jump at the enthusiastic greeting that had surged from somewhere behind Azu. 

Leaning sideways to look past her, Hamid was able to spot Cel, sporting a unique tricorne straw hat and an infectious smile, and a few meters behind them, Oscar, strolling towards Azu and Hamid at a leisurely pace. 

As they drew nearer, Cel’s smile fell at the sight of Hamid’s face. “Ah, it wasn’t the cheerful, happy-fluffy type of hugging, was it? Sorry I was far away and I didn’t realise – well you know what? It’s fine. You two go back to your hugging and I’ll just go say hi to everyone else, and then once you’re feeling better, _then_ we’ll hug. Does that sound good? It sounds good to me.”

By the time they had finished talking, Hamid’s smile had grown enough to puff up his mascara-stained cheeks. Quickly, he threw Azu a complicit look, who responded with a smile of her own, before turning back to Cel.

“I think Azu and I would like our hug now actually.”

Despite knowing what was coming, the force and velocity of Cel’s hug took him by surprise, and caused him to break out in barely audible laughter, his face currently being squished between his two much taller friends. 

Above him, he heard a muffled voice say, “Oscar, I think, well actually, I’m pretty sure that we’re missing someone.” 

Though Hamid couldn’t see it, the slight increase of pressure against him suggested that Oscar had gotten the message and joined in on the affection. 

When they finally let go of each other, Hamid swiftly cast prestidigitation on himself to smooth his clothes and remove any marks of his previous state. He noticed that Wilde had already disappeared inside, most likely letting Zolf know that their fourth guest had arrived. 

Cel nodded their head towards the door left ajar. “Well, someone’s eager to play.”

“Oh, you missed the beginning of Sasha’s explanation, but don’t worry, Hamid and I can take you through what we understood of the rules.”

“Azu, you think – you really _think_ that I’ve been around as long as I have and that I’ve never played Dungeons and Dragons? Please. Once I was trapped inside a tent for a week – it was during a bad snowstorm, and American snowstorms… well, you just need to know that my pinky finger would have frozen within a second of hitting the wind outside. And I was trapped with this orc, right, who told me that…”

As they continued their story, Hamid began to usher them all inside, where they would sit by the warm fire as Oscar led them on a meticulously-crafted adventure, full of twists and turns, and intrigue and drama: the Wilde way. 

Hamid was looking forward to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a cute fic about Sasha and the others playing DnD and I ended up with Hamid confronting his messy feelings about the past. How did we end up there? Please don’t ask me.
> 
> Anyway, if you enjoyed this, please feel free to leave kudos/comments <3


End file.
